Legends of the Frost
by Legend of the Frost
Summary: This story is set ten years after the Stormcloak rebellion. In this story it has failed and it is about a holdout who continues the fight, he joins up with another hold out group in their search for the Dragonborn who they wish to lead them. The hold out is named Tsunvir The Unbroken. His enemies call him the Ghost of the Northern Wind this is his story hark and listen well Kinsman
1. A warrior undying

Legends of the Frost

A tale of the Unbroken a Stormcloak story

Tsunvir

It has been years since that fateful day. The day everything was lost, the day Windhelm was taken by the imperial legion and he day Ulfric the true high King of Skyrim, and his second in command Gunmar were put to death. We still fought though, we held out in the hidden camps all over Skyrim fighting a guerilla war. Over the years the different camps became divided. We were now no different than the Forsworn of the Reach. Were we truly now terrorists. It didn't matter to the truest of stormcloaks, even though they killed Ulfric we fought on. For freedom and independence and the right to worship our god Talos, it has been nearly ten years since that day. My entire camp eventually was killed. We had become so isolated from other camps I had no idea if they were even still active. If they even kept up the fight Ulfric started years ago.

All I knew is that I kept the fight going, alone and by myself and I've waged a guerilla campaign. I became good at fighting outnumbered. Every time I have met Imperials or Thalmor on the road I would kill them in the dark. If they had prisoners I would free them. I would tell them come and join me in the fight. Some looked at me as if I was insane. Something to pity, others were moved by my conviction and joined me. They never lasted long. Ten years and I still fought, I was what a true nord should be, even though I am battered, and beaten, maybe even defeated I refuse to stand down I shall not surrender I will not give up no matter what the odds I stand tall still refusing to lay down my arms. I am a true son of Skyrim, maybe the last one but I shall not surrender until my death. I will have my joy in Sovngarde, with my ancestors and when I arrive at the mead halls of Shor I shall tell Ulfric my true high king that after all those years I never gave up. That I kept fighting the fight he started, the good fight.

My name is Tsunvir the Unbroken and I will never give up the fight, I shall fight on 'til the end. I will others may have given up but I shall not. It has been cold these ten years, it has been lonely, there are days I have starved some days and some nights but it has been well worth it, the imperials and the Thalmor have taken to calling me the ghost of the north. The ghost of the snow, the frost demon and I have taken a fancy to those names and I bare them with pride. This is my story, the story of why I still fight, the story of true nord warriors. I beckon ye to come forth and sit with me around the fire and listen to the tale, legends of the frost, through my voice they shall never be lost.

 **A/N**

 **I am going to be posting a few chapters from this story and see how many people read it before I continue; the most I will post will be 5-8 chapters unless I get into writing it. Please review also I will be making a story with the Dragonborn being paired with Elenwen. There are just simply not enough If any of those stories around, you know the good guy getting involved with one of the bad guys kind of thing. I'm also writing an actual book about Skyrim. Maybe I'll post a chapter or two of that as well. It would be nice if anyone could PM me about ideas on getting the copyrights on that as well.**


	2. Kinsman

Legends of the Frost

Chapter 2

The Struggle Continues

Tsunvir's POV

It was early in the morning I had taken down an elk a week and a half ago and was living off that as of right now. I was holed up in a cave near Ivarstead a town at the base of the highest mountain in all of Tamriel, The Throat of the World. Soon I would be taken a long trip north; I had heard vague rumors of a Stormcloak hold out camp on the borders of the Dawnstar's hold the Pale, and Eastmarch. I hoped these rumors were true, but I refused to get my hopes up. My long blonde hair was untamed and down to bottom of my shoulder blades. I had a beard that hadn't been properly shaved in years. I finished my meager breakfast, and broke down my camp, I counted my arrows, made sure my bow was in good condition, and made sure my iron battle axe was sharpened. Once my camp was broken down I too my leave of my cave home, and took to the road north toward Windhelm.

I hadn't been there since the moments of the final battle. It happened while the Dragonborn was fighting the world eater the imperials took us by surprise completely violating the truce agreement that had been made. 'Damn faithless imperials they were all dogs the lot of them.' I thought bitterly.

I had been on the road for a while; my trip to Dawnstar would probably take at least three days. That's when I stumbled upon a sight I hated the most. There were Imperials and they had a prisoner, she looked like a nord woman, and she had on war paint. Her hands were bound and her head was down. Maybe she is a true daughter of Skyrim I had hoped. I was more than happy to engage and slaughter those imperials.

"So when do you think this trash will give up fighting?" One imperial asked. I followed them sticking to the woodlands and the shadows that were provided during midday. "you say we are trash? At least we fight for something you faithless dogs." The girl said. "you know what I have had enough of you running your god damned mouth bitch!" The imperial snapped, and punched her hard in the face sending her reeling to the ground. "You know I think you need to be taught a lesson of who's in control here." He snarled and his two companions drew their swords.

I didn't know what was about to happen but I didn't like where this was going. Then the soldier started grabbing for her trousers and started ripping them off. She struggled but her hands were bound. "What are you idiots just standing there for?" He bellowed to the others. "Help me and hold this bitch down." They looked at him dumbly. "You'll both have your turns now come on!" he yelled, and they reluctantly came and held the girls arms over her head and the other clamped his hand over her mouth muffling her screams. Tears were falling from her eyes as she shook her head pleading them not to do what they were about to do. My blood boiled, and the rage in my heart burned as bright as it had since the death of Ulfric and Galmar. This was an injustice that I would not allow to transpire. I drew my battle-axe, and stepped out into the open. "Why don't you pick on someone who can fight back cowards?" I snarled, and they all stopped and looked at me. "Oh so we got one of those hero types huh? Kill him." The imperial on top of the girl ordered his lackeys. They got up and picked up their words.

"After you." I growled, and I readied my axe, and got into a defensive stance, ready to strike down my foes. They charged at me both at the same time. "For Skyrim!" I roared, and I dodged to the outside of my attacker to the left, and got behind him and brought my axe around in a wide arc and cut off his head. The other assailant turned and roared in fury for his fallen comrade and charged again. I swung my axe low and took his right leg of at the knee, and then brought my axe down on his head with devastating force splitting his skull down to his mid rib cage.

"You savage bastard!" The one who was in charge roared in outrage, and took to me with his sword and shield. I parried his attack with my axe, but I was a second late, and that earned me a slash across the chest, leaving a fine gash gushing blood. My armor took the brunt of it. In hindsight the one thing I would change is the crappy armor we were given by Ulfric and Galmar. Seriously the Stormcloak cuirass in all honesty really sucks. I thought to myself humorously.

"Hah! Tis but a flesh wound!" I mocked the imperial as I slammed him with my shoulder knocking him to the ground. "Mercy please!" he cried. "Mercy is it? Would you have shown that to the girl over there if I had not stepped in?" I asked in complete outrage that this coward would have the nerve to dare ask for such a kindness. And with that I brought my axe down hard on him. I repeated the action three more times for good measure.

I stood for a minute still and silent letting my rage flow through my body and run its course. About five minutes passed and then the girl said to me "Thank you for saving e. if you hadn't come by I don't know what would have happened." She said "But could you get these bindings off of me please." She asked her voice was soft, and kind. I obliged and cut her binds with my steel dagger.

"Thank you, you truly are my savior." She told me. "I need no thanks in helping a fellow true child of Skyrim." I told her holding up my hands. "I thought by the armor, but I didn't want to get my hopes up but you're a Stormcloak?" she asked amazed. "Aye that be true, I am one of the last." I told her with pride in my voice. "I'm a Stormcloak to, my name is Freyja, Freyja Thrice-Pierced." She said with pride. "I never saw your face during tehe war? Are you lying to me?" I asked her deadly serious. She shook her head frantically. "No there are still Stormcloaks though we are not all original Stormcloaks though. I joined a local faction in Dawnstar at least four years ago." She said to me.

"Oh so there really is a war band in Dawnstar." I said musing and stroking my beard. She nodded. "It's growing into an army, we are searching for the Dragonborn of legend to lead us to victory. The Thalmor have done great harm to our people." She said sadness hinting in her last statement. "What has happened?" I asked "What has caused you to join the cause?" I asked sincere. "The Thalmor killed my whole family. And the Empire did nothing. And that is why I fight." She said tears falling from her eyes. As if on instinct I pulled her into an embrace, she tightened up, but eventually relaxed and cried on my shoulder as I rocked her back and forth.

"How old are you Freyja?" I asked. "I'm nineteen, what about you?" She replied. "I am twenty six; I joined ten years ago when I was sixteen. I have fought on for almost ten years now." I told her. "What's your name?" she asked me "My name is Tsunvir the Unbroken, you may know of me as the Ghost of the Northern rim." I told her with pride. "You're really him, The Ghost I thought they were just myths you're a true legend and the embodiment of the true nord spirit you inspire us all." She said in wonder.

"So you say your detachment is held up in the Pale?" I asked, "They were but they moved to the Ice flats, near the old serpent stone." She said "I was on my way to meet up with them, is that where you are headed?" I asked, she nodded her head, "Would you show me the way? It would be nice to have company it is a long journey is it not?" I asked her. "I would be honored to." She said with joy in her voice.

And that was that, that was the day I gained an important friend, me and her became very close. With that we journeyed north. Now I had someone to watch my back so I didn't have to be completely on guard. She watched my back and I watched hers it was as simple as that.

To be continued….

 **A/N**

 **I have decided to continue this story weather people decide to read it or not doesn't matter, because I have a good arc in mind. All hail Ulfric the True High King, and All Hail the Stormcloaks the true sons and daughters of Skyrim.**


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